


I hear symphonies in my head

by lilbookofkell



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Coming Out, Get Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 18:52:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3179405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilbookofkell/pseuds/lilbookofkell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eric listens to a lot of music. Life is never so bad that it can’t be fixed with baked goods and the right soundtrack, and he’s really good at providing both, if he says so himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I hear symphonies in my head

**Author's Note:**

> This was written before comic 2.6 - WGSS120 / HIST376: Women, Food, & American Culture. This pulls some stuff from the twitter as well but I decided to ignore #EpiKegster's existence since I couldn't possibly guess at what actually happens during it.

Eric has something of a love/hate relationship with country music. Despite what his friends at Samwell seem to think, he didn't emerge from the womb belting Beyoncé. Both his parents like country music, so growing up that was what he listened to.

On the one hand, there’s actually lots of country music he still likes. Faith Hill, Leann Rimes, Tim McGraw, Martina McBride, even Taylor Swift's first album; these don't usually make it onto most of his playlists, but he's got them nonetheless. The nostalgic charm of them overwhelms the cliche of being a southern boy who listens to country music. Plus he can always appreciate a good diva, regardless of genre.

On the other hand there's a lot of country music that just...isn't for him. And not just in a 'not my cup of tea' kind of way, but in a 'this music is for _real_ men' way. Songs about hunting and fishing and drinking beer and sleeping with girls in painted-on, cut-off jeans. These are the songs that his dad and uncles listen to when they drag him and his (taller, stronger, football-playing, _straight_ ) male cousins fishing. Songs that say, loud and clear, that Eric is different than them.

So Eric doesn't listen to country very often. He finds comfort in pop, hip hop, and the occasional show tune. These are songs that don't care if he likes baking, if he prefers fruity cocktails to beer, if fishing bores him to tears, if hunting makes him nauseous. These songs don’t care if he likes figure skating or playing hockey or both. These are songs that make him feel good, make him feel settled in his skin, make him feel like it's okay to be himself.

Eric listens to a lot of music. Life is never so bad that it can’t be fixed with baked goods and the right soundtrack, and he’s really good at providing both, if he says so himself.

 

\---

 

His freshman year of college, Eric's mother drives him to Samwell and his father stays home. There'd been talk at the beginning of summer of all three of them making the drive together, but then the assistant football coach broke his leg and wouldn't be able to handle pre-season training by himself so Coach has to be there.

Whatever disappointment Eric feels at his father putting football ahead of helping him get settled at school is overshadowed by the knowledge that with just him and his mother in the car, he'll be in charge of the radio. His mom lets him plug in his iPhone and they spend the entire sixteen hour drive singing along to the most parent-appropriate music he has. None of it is country.

After his mom leaves though, he curls up under his covers with his headphones in and listens to every [Lee Ann Womack](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RV-Z1YwaOiw) song he has. It doesn't stop him from crying, but it does make it a little better.

 

\---

 

The first real conversation Eric has with anyone on the Samwell Men's Hockey team — not including short exchanges like "we're gonna call you Bitty now" (Holster) or "Dude did you make us _pie_?" (Ransom) or "...you need to work on your strength training" (Jack) — is with Shitty. It  happens his fourth day there, on his way to practice. So far Eric's been keeping a low profile, blending in with the other freshman (frogs?) on the team. He's never really been comfortable around large groups of guys for numerous reasons and large groups of jocks are even worse. He realizes this makes his decision to play on an all-male hockey team seem poorly thought out but...but he'd hoped Samwell would be different.

Right now he's not so sure it will be. Most of the guys don't seem to mind him. They tease him about his accent and his height but it doesn't seem malicious or anything. The team captain though...Eric's pretty sure Jack hates him. They've only had two practices so far and Jack's yelled at Eric during both of them. And yeah, Eric knows he's not as good as the other guys on the team who have been playing longer and harder than he has but for god’s sake, he's _trying_.

He's listening to _Get Me Bodied_ on the way to Faber; it’s pump-up music, usually reserved for before games but he feels like facing down Jack is an equally nerve-racking experience and therefore breaking out the pre-game playlist is justified.

He's blasting it kind of loud though, which is why he doesn't hear Shitty come up behind him until one of his earbuds is yanked out.

"Ayyy Bits, I called you, like, a million times! Whatcha listening to that you can't even hear your favorite teammate?" Shitty ignores Eric's yelp and subsequent apology is favor of holding the earbud up to his own ear. Bitty scrambles for his iPhone in his pocket, hoping to turn the music off before Shitty can recognize it. He's not really sure yet what kind of music is acceptable for 'bros' up here, outside of the land of Florida Georgia Line, but he's pretty sure that Queen Bey isn't it.

"Aw man, sweet, you like Beyoncé?" Shitty asks, which is...not the reaction Eric was expecting. He doesn't get a chance to actually confirm that yes, he “likes” Beyoncé before Shitty is off, rambling about feminism and pop culture and using a lot of terms Eric hasn't heard before like 'slut shaming' and 'respectability politics.' He honest-to-god has no idea what Shitty's on about, but he's pretty sure Shitty's not judging him for liking the kind of music that he likes so he counts it as a win and lets Shitty ramble at him. And when Shitty throws an arm around Eric's shoulder and keeps it there for the rest of the walk to Faber, well, he decides he doesn't really mind.

 

\---

 

Ransom and Holster are confusing. For one thing they're like, the most stereotypical jock bros Eric knows. Shitty's too outspokenly political (in his own stoner way) to completely fit the bill, and Jack's too quiet and serious. There are other guys on the team that are perhaps even more bro-y than Ransom and Holster, but none of them have latched on to Eric the same way. Which is the other, much more confusing thing: Ransom and Holster seem to honestly like him. Like, a lot. They invite him to things and sit by him at team breakfast and don't get annoyed with explaining the ins-and-outs of hockey culture to him. (They actually seem to enjoy this last part quite a bit. They have PowerPoints and everything.)

And it's not like Eric had expected everyone on the team to be jerks or anything. He'd been prepared for it, sure, but he'd figured between the fresh start, Samwell's more accepting and liberal environment, and people being (slightly) more mature than high school that most people on the team would leave him be as long as he played well. He hadn't really expected the team to become the keystone of his social life here at Samwell, but it _is_ , mostly thanks to the two d-men. Who, again, seem to honestly want to be his friends.

It's...weird. Awesome ('swawesome?), but weird. He likes being part of a team, on and off the ice, and he finally gets why Coach is always going on about his days on the football team. It's great, but he's got this feeling on the pit of his stomach sometimes like it can't possibly last. Like if he slips up it'll all be gone. He knows it's not true, probably. Shitty's really vocal about feminsim, Holster loves rom-coms, and everyone already knows Eric bakes. If none of those things are enough to make someone unworthy of being a bro then something like his taste in music probably isn't either.

But he feels like it's too close a jump between finding out he likes musical theater and finding out he's gay. Like that will be the one thing that pushes everyone's suspicions over the edge. And he intends to come out, really, he does. He's just...waiting for the right moment. Which isn't now.

So when Holster grabs his laptop from him during a small team study session at the Haus, declaring that it’s Bitty's turn to “provide some jams,” Eric nearly has a heart attack. He tries to grab his laptop back before Holster can go through his iTunes library but Ransom bear hugs him to the ground, leaving Eric to watch in suspense as Holster scrolls through his music.

He can pinpoint the exact moment Holster comes across something questionable. His eyebrows go up in surprise, and then down until he's got a crease in his brow and his eyes are narrow. Eric braces himself for the judgement...

"Seriously Bits? You've got an entire musical playlist but you don't have _[The Last Five Years](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vLmz8HY5pQY&list=PLF6382E4C5B36ABED) _ on it?"

...that was not the judgement he was expecting.

"Um...yes?" Eric says.

"You've heard 'Last Five Years' right?" Holster asks looking...not mad, exactly. Intense, maybe, like the time he told Bitty all about his favorite episodes of 30 Rock. For an hour and a half.

"Um, I've heard _of_ it?" Bitty says. Ransom is groaning at this point.

"Bitty, don't encourage him!" But it’s too late apparently, because Holster is grinning and pulling up youtube.

“Dude, it’s the best. I cry, like, everytime. So good, you have to listen.”

“Now you’ve done it,” Ransom says, clearly annoyed before he perks up. “Hey, if Bitty likes the same crappy music as you, does that mean I can pass off my duet duties to him?”

Holster fixes him with a glare. "Duet duties are for life bro. For _life_."

Which is how Eric gets a front row seat to the Ransom and Holster’s abridged performance of "The Last Five Years." He's pretty sure it contains a lot more duets — and wrestling matches — than the original, but it's still the most fun he's had in the almost five weeks he's been here.

That night when he's back at his dorm, Eric downloads the original "The Last Five Years" soundtrack. He listens to it while he gets ready for bed. In the bathroom mirror he practices saying the words "I'm gay" out loud.

He's still not ready to come out yet, but he thinks he's closer than before.

 

\---

 

He's played three games at Samwell before anyone comments on his pre-game rituals. And of course the person to comment would be Jack.

"Do you have to listen to that so loud?" Jack asks, elbowing him in the side. Eric silently curses Johnson for deciding he wanted to sit with Shitty on this bus ride ("gotta move the plot forward bro," whatever _that_ means).

"Sorry," Eric says, and reluctantly turns down his music. It's a valid complaint, he knows that, but everything Jack says sounds like a judgment.

Jack shrugs, and god even his shrugs seem judge-y. He seems to think for a second and then asks, "what are you listening to anyways?"

Eric considers how honest he should be for only a second. At this point he's already been musically approved by both Shitty and Holster, and Ransom by extension, so he's not worried about what stupid Jack thinks about his music tastes.

"Right now? [Britney Spears](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pt8VYOfr8To)," Eric says, holding up his iPhone so Jack can see the album art for "Britney Jean" on it. Jack frowns and Eric feels his hackles begin to rise.

"She's still around?" Jack asks, confused.

It takes Eric a few seconds to realize that yes, Jack is being serious.

"Um, Yes? Very much so?"

"Huh, "  Jack shrugs again and goes back to looking over what Eric thinks are his history notes, ignoring Eric's bewilderment.

Eric asks Shitty about it later, much to Shitty's amusement.

"Ah yes, our dear captain, the cultural black hole," Shitty says, "All he listens to is dad music. Ask him who he thinks Lady Gaga is next time Bits, it'll be hilarious."

Eric has no intention of asking Jack Zimmermann who he thinks Lady Gaga is, but he feels a little better knowing that apparently Jack's taste in music is far more chirp-worthy than his own.

 

\---

 

Eric doesn't exactly have the greatest of expectations when he and Jack start their checking clinics, but it's actually not that bad. Jack is as serious and intense as always, but he displays an unprecedented amount of patience in these one-on-one sessions that make Eric like him a little more. Once they resolve the whole, 'waking Eric up at 4 am without warning' issue anyways. 

Of course, it's still Jack, so there's only so much he can hope for in terms of common human decency.

"I don't get it Bittle," Jack says, for not the first time today, "What are you so scared of?"

"Um, have you seen me Jack?" Eric shoots back. He ignores the hand Jack offers and pulls himself up. It's a petty move but he's pretty sure he's going to have bruises tomorrow so he thinks he's earned the right to be slightly petty. Jack doesn't seem to be bothered by it anyhow. "I'm shorter than everyone else out there by at least half a foot."

"Yeah, you're small, but you're not _weak_ ," Jack says. Eric feels a little elated at the comment before Jack ruins it by adding, "you definitely need to eat more protein, and work on your strength training but still. Not weak." 

Sometimes Eric wants to throw a hockey puck at Jack's stupid face. Right now is one of those times. He takes a deep breath and tells himself that it's not Jack’s fault he doesn't get it. Jack's built like an athlete, a "real" athlete. In another life he might've been a quarterback. He’s not the kind of guy that people shove into lockers or lock in utility closets. He's probably never felt small or weak or scared or... 

Eric takes another deep breath and reminds himself that he knows that's not true. Jack’s got issues too, a _lot_ of them. Eric just wishes that fact made him a little bit more understanding.

"Listen, I know I'm not weak. I know that 90 percent of the time no ones actually going to hurt me...well, maybe more like 80 percent of the time... 75 percent?"

" _Bittle_."

"Right. The point is it's not a totally rational fear and I _know_ that. I know it's not rational, but it's _real_ and no amount of you telling me it's all in my head is going to make it any _less_ real."

Eric could go on, he wants to go on, but Jack is giving him this look like...like he's never seen Eric before or something. Eric shifts nervously and waits, but Jack doesn't say anything. 

"...Jack?"

Jack blinks and seems to shake himself out of whatever thoughts he was stuck in, but he's still looking at Eric thoughtfully.

"Maybe we're going about this the wrong way..." He says. "I have a few other ideas we could try."

"It's almost seven."

"Next time," Jack says firmly, and then, with a big more hesitance, "uh, would it help if you had music?" 

"Excuse me?"

"I know you like to listen to music before games. And I know figure skating involves music. And obviously you wouldn't be able to listen to music during the game or anything but if it'd help you feel less nervous you should bring your music the next time we meet up. We could play it over the speakers while we practice."

Eric wonders of the last check rattled his brains or something. Or maybe Jack's brain is the one he should be worried about. But if Jack's going to let him make this ordeal a little less horrible well, he's not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Which is how Eric starts spending every Tuesday and Friday morning at Faber, letting Jack Zimmermann run him into the boards while [Katy Perry](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CevxZvSJLk8) blasts in the background.

If Jack is annoyed by his music he doesn't say anything. Probably because Eric is actually getting better. It's not just the music of course: Jack’s actually not a bad coach when he isn't frustrated, and he seems less frustrated with Eric lately. He's actually pretty nice sometimes. Their interactions off the ice improve as Eric's on ice performance does. At this rate, Eric thinks, all he has to do is score a point during a game and Jack may actually consider him a friend.

 

\---

 

Eric scores a point against Yale, he and Jack are not friends, and he spends the whole week listening to Adele.

 

\---

 

Eric's well aware that he has some bad habits when it comes to music. He can sometimes use music to dwell on things, getting stuck in an emotional rut. He hasn't done it much lately, not since his freshman year of high school when he listened to the _[bare: a pop opera](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1t-9etLIimU&list=PLAACB872395737496)_ original soundtrack almost non-stop for an entire month. When his dad got his head coaching job and they moved to a new town Eric had promised himself he was never going to get in a slump like that again. He made it an official rule that he can't listen to more than 5 sad songs in a 24-hour period. No dwelling.

Adele isn't really sad music, it's more “bitter and betrayed” music. So it's not _really_ breaking the rules, but he's disappointed in himself nonetheless. He makes himself the most upbeat, “I'm awesome,” take-no-shit playlist he can think of and even moves all his mopey music off his iPhone temporarily, just in case.

It helps, a little.

 

\---

 

Eric likes dances in theory more than he does in practice. In theory, dances are fun. There’s good music, you're with friends, he gets to show off his awesome dance moves, and he gets to slow dance with a cute boy.

In practice, all the dances he's ever been to have had questionable music, most of the people he's with abandon him to get drunk and make out behind the gym, he stays by the wall the entire night and he's never had a _real_ date. The only dance he’s ever gone to with someone was senior prom, when he and Ashley Jenkins went together because they were friends and teammates and her boyfriend had just broken up with her the week before. Eric spent most of the night listening to her vent before they decided to ditch the dance and go to the 24-hour Waffle House across town.  

The fact that senior prom is still the best dance he's ever been to despite all that has kind of soured him to dances in general. But apparently having dance-related trauma is not a valid excuse to get out of Samwell's annual 'Winter Screw.' 

He knows he should just make up some reason why he can't go. Or tell Ransom and Holster that he has a date already and then just pretend she's bailed on him last minute. Maybe he could even let them actually set him up. It's just a dance, he tells himself, he can go with a girl to one stupid dance.

Except he can't. The thought of going through the motions, of pretending to be excited about whatever girl the guys set him up with seems unbearable now. It's like being at Samwell has stretched him, letting him be more than he was in high school, and the prospect of forcing himself back into his old shell is physically painful. At Samwell he can talk about figure skating and hockey, about baking and Beyoncé and...and he should be able to talk about boys too.

So he gathers his courage and texts Shitty, asking if they can meet in front of Founder’s. He listens to his pre-game playlist and writes himself cue cards while he's waiting for Shitty's reply. When Shitty finally does reply ("sure bro, c u in 15 mins?") Eric panics a bit. He decides last minute to put his sad music playlist back on his iPhone - just in case he needs a head start moping on the way back to his dorm.

His actual coming out is almost a non-event. Shitty's casual acceptance, plus his passionate reassurance that it wouldn't be an issue with any of the other guys on the team, lift a weight off Eric's chest that he's been carrying for... Well for years, if he's honest. It's not all gone, he still gets a little queasy when he thinks about telling his parents, but it's so much better.

He takes the sad playlist off his iPhone.

He tells Ransom and Holster the next day. It's still scary, but infinitely less so than before. They accept the news with a bit more excitement than it probably warrants and immediately start re-planning who he should take to Winter Screw.

The dance turns out to be less than ideal. Eric’s date doubts his claim about being a hockey player and at the end of the night Eric's cleaning vomit off his shoes. But his friends are there, none of the songs mention tractors and he danced with a _boy_. So all-in-all, Winter Screw is maybe tied with senior prom for least worst dance ever.

 

\---

 

Winter Screw sets off the landslide that is finals and before Eric knows it, his mother is picking him up at the airport for winter break.

She hugs him tight and tells him he seems taller than when she saw him last. Parents weekend was only a month ago so Eric know that's probably not the case, but he appreciates the sentiment anyways.

On the car ride home she asks him about their games since Yale (no, he hasn't scored a goal since then, but he's had two assists), classes (he thinks he did alright on his finals. No he's still not sure what he wants major in yet), and if he's gone on any dates (no).

(He only feels a little bad lying about this last question, especially since he'd rather forget his Winter Screw date altogether, until his mother reaches over and squeezes his hand. She tells him not to worry, he'll find someone. Suddenly he feels a lot worse.)

They listen to Christmas music on the ride home from the airport. Eric will never admit it to anyone, but when it comes to Christmas songs, he prefers country music to anything else. It's the childhood nostalgia talking, he knows, but he's never felt like it's really Christmas time until [Martina McBride is singing about holy nights](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gec2NfUZM-E) as he and his parents decorate the tree.

They do Christmas Eve with his mom's family and Christmas Day with his dad's. His mom's family is smaller and he's the youngest one there, so it's usually a quieter affair. It's weird this year, because having gone away to college suddenly means his an official grown-up. They ask him the regular questions (yes classes are going well, yes he enjoys playing college hockey, yes it's very cold up north, no he's not seeing anyone). His aunt and uncle give him a money, his cousins Mary and Todd both give him gift cards, and his grandmother gives him a notebook full of handwritten recipes and some baking sheets. He falls asleep on the ride home while [Vince Gill sings about peace on earth](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gec2NfUZM-E). 

Christmas Day is another thing entirely. They wake up early and rush downstairs. He hasn't believed in Santa in a long time but the sooner they open presents the sooner they can start prepping for the rest of the day. 

He gives his mom a cookbook on New England food and gets a hug. He gives Coach a 'Samwell Dads' baseball hat and gets a thank you. His parents give him their gifts (some sweaters, new gloves, new earbuds, a book about making microwave mug cakes, and enough floss and deodorant to last him the rest of the school year). Then Coach leaves him and his mother to finish up everything they need to get done food-wise before heading to his uncle's house.

Eric's dad is the middle child of five siblings. All of them are married and all of them have kids. Eric's the only one of his thirteen cousins who's an only child. His two oldest cousins are married with kids of their own, plus his cousin Sarah has brought her boyfriend. All this means is that there are 31 people spanning four generations crammed into his uncle's house and it is _loud_.

There's music playing from the speakers in the living room but Eric can barely hear it as he goes through the ritual of greeting all his family members. Hugs from his aunts, his female cousins, and his grandma (who throws in some cheek pinching and cooing, as per tradition); the men in his family greet him with so many back slaps that by the time he makes it to the kitchen to deposit the food they've brought his shoulders aches.

As expected, his relatives immediately start questioning him about his first semester. He's glad now that he's gone through this already with his mom's family. The Bittles are much more persistent and invasive in their interrogation.

Yes his classes were fine. He hasn't gotten his final grades yet but he doesn't think he failed anything.

No he's not sure what he wants to major in yet.

No he doesn't have a girlfriend. No he hasn't really been dating. Too busy. Yes the girls are pretty. Of course not as pretty as Georgia girls. That's not any of your business and besides, a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell.

Seriously my mom is right there guys, stop asking.

No he hadn't go to any football games. He just didn't have time. Maybe next year.

Hockey is good. They've won most of their games. No he hasn't started yet but he scored one goal and has had three assists.

"Junior's got some famous hockey kid on his team," Coach supplies, appearing at Eric's side from seemingly nowhere and startling him. Among their rambunctious relatives, Richard Bittle’s normal quietness becomes just plain stealthy. "Jake something?"

"Jack," Eric corrects, "Jack Zimmermann."

"I've heard of him," Eric's cousin Tom says. Tom is two years younger than Eric and wants to join the marines. He's already got the built - and the haircut - for it. "Didn't he get kicked out of the NHL for doing coke?"

" _No_ ," Eric snaps. He's surprised at how annoyed he is at the comment, considering he's still somewhat mad at Jack for his behavior after the Yale game. They've been getting along a little better, making it through practice without incident. They're still not friends or anything, but the comment brings out a sudden protectiveness for his teammate. He's probably been hanging around Shitty too much. 

No one comments on it of course. Most of the men and more than a few of the women in his family are or were athletes; they know about sticking up for your teammates.

The conversation turns to the weather up north and how he's dealing with the cold. Jack isn't mentioned again. 

After dinner all 31 of them squeeze into the living room. Eric sits on his normal perch on the arm of the big couch, next to his mother. His youngest cousins, who normally sit at his feet during family gatherings and tug on his pants until he pulls one of them onto his lap, have instead all gathered around the Christmas tree for the family's small not-so-secret Santa gift exchange.

His grandfather hands gifts out one-by-one, starting at the youngest Bittle and working his way up. Eric's cousin Katie squeals with delight at the doll he's gotten her and demands he let her sit on his lap so she can give him a proper hug. She stays put afterward, rambling away as she tells Eric all about her new doll. 

Tom gets Eric an iTunes gift card. Eric's grateful. Last time Tom bought for him he ended up getting a camo hunting jacket.

As the gift exchange wraps up the chatter grows quieter. Hot chocolate is served. Someone lights a fire in the fireplace and switches the music to something softer.

Sarah and her boyfriend are cuddled up under a blanket near the fire, rocking in time along as [Brad Paisley sings about baby Jesus](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4MD1UFMiV-A). It's adorable and sweet and it makes Eric's chest hurt. He loves Sarah and he's really happy she's met someone, especially someone she likes enough to bring to Christmas. But when [_Baby it’s Cold Outside_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m3H6YE-40xg) start playing and Sarah’s boyfriend pulls her to her feet so they can dance along, all Eric can think about is how he might never be able to do that, celebrate Christmas with the person he loves and his family. 

Before he can get too sad about it, Katie is tugging on his arm, demanding he dance with both her and her new doll. He laughs and let's her and Lady Antebellum distract him from his depressing thoughts.

  
  


\---

 

Spring semester comes quicker than he expected. He meets Lardo, helps give the taddy tour, ends up practically adopting one of the tadpoles, and he's on the starting line for hockey. 

Hockey is rough at first. It's clear that Jack’s less than thrilled about Eric being on his line. He demands they start up their checking clinics again and at practice he's tougher than ever before. Eric would be bitter about it (well, he is a little bit bitter about it, at least at first) except that it's _working_. 

In no time at all, he and Jack are a well-oiled machine. Despite all his frustrations with Jack, Eric's never been in doubt of how good a hockey player he is. Playing with Jack is incredible. Eric just has to get the puck to him and it's like magic. And unlike with Yale, now Jack seems genuinely pleased with Eric's success. He starts hugging Eric during cellys and its...well Eric's been on cloud nine. He cranks his pre-game playlist before each game and Jack just smiles at him and chirps him about early onset hearing loss. Eric grins and turns it up louder. When his listening to his music, imagining the game ahead, he feels like nothing could go wrong.

 

\---

 

After the game with Princeton he deletes all the songs off his iPhone. You're not supposed to listen to music through headphones when you have a concussion.

 

\---

 

Without his music to listen to, the plane ride back to Georgia is dull. He almost regrets not taking his mother up on her offer to drive up and get him, but it had seemed wasteful since he didn't have much to bring back. Most of his belongings are stored away in his new room at the Haus. He's only brought back the essentials he'll need for the summer. It feels weird to treat returning home like you would a vacation, but it sort of feels like it is.

He wears ear plugs to deal with the noise and spends most of the flight asleep. When he arrives in Georgia his mother pulls him into a fierce hug. She cries and pretends that she's not and he lets her.

In a surprising turn of events, Coach is there too. Eric supposed there's no football related demands on his time in mid-May. Coach pats him on the back, much gentler than he normally would, and takes his bags for him. On the car ride back he turns the radio down low and it takes Eric a while to realize it's on a pop station, not a country one.

Being home feels weird. Without the chaos of the holidays to distract him, he notices all the little changes made to his childhood home. There's a new welcome mat by the front door, his mother finally replaced the lamp in the den, the furniture in the guest bedroom has been rearranged. The changes make his skin itch and he retreats to his bedroom to ignore them and unpack.  

It hasn't been two full days before he’s missing Samwell something fierce. He loves his parents, he loves this house, he even loves Georgia, for all its faults. But he's gotten used Samwell. He's gotten used to the dryness of the air, the smell of beer and barbecue in the Haus, the water pressure in the showers at his dorm, the music blasting from one frat house or another, the the particular energy of a campus town. He’s gotten use to the noise of the Haus, of Ransom and Holster yelling, of Shitty yelling, of Lardo laughing, of Jack calling them all to get ready for practice.

He misses his friends. No one here will belt Beyoncé with him.

The doctor says he no longer needs to worry about loud noises as much. He keeps his music turned down low anyways and waits for fall.

 

\---

 

Summer goes by slowly. He spends most of it as a camp counselor and helping his mom around the house. He texts with his friends a lot. A surprising number of the texts are from Jack. Eric gets the sense Jack feels guilty about his concussion which is ridiculous, but he appreciates the attention anyways. 

This year's drive up to Samwell is much of the same as last year's. He and his mom chat idly about his expectations for the coming year.

Lady Gaga's [_Born This Way_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0BsLd4Y060Q) comes on but he's not in the mood for it. He's looking through his music library, trying to find something else when his mother pipes up.

"You know, Tom mentioned something during 4th of July I wanted to ask you about," she says.

"Yeah?" Eric asks. He's not really paying attention, since his cousin has never said anything he’s ever been particularly enthusiastic about.

"Well, he's started looking at colleges and came across some discussion board about school sayings or something. And he said one of Samwell's was 'one in four, maybe more' and I wasn't sure what that meant. Do you know?"

Eric swears his heart stops. He keeps his eyes focused on his iPhone and tries to sound casual when he answers.

"Oh that's just some dumb saying about how many gay people there are at Samwell. I don't think it's accurate or anything though."

"Huh," his mother says. Eric risks looking over at her and finds her eyes focused on the road. They don't mention it again for the rest of the trip.

When they get to the Haus Eric is instantly accosted by the majority of the hockey team and pulled into a series of bear hugs and noogies that would put his cousins to shame. Ransom and Holster help him bring his stuff upstairs and then he and his mother start making the pie for Jack’s surprise birthday party. When the pie is done Shitty texts Lardo to let her know she can bring Jack back to the Haus.

They sing happy birthday and Jack tells Eric he likes the pie.

Eric settles into the Haus easier than he expected. He’d been worried about replacing Johnson, about fitting himself into an already established dynamic, but its not even a week since he’s moved in and he already feels like he’s been here forever.

There are some problems of course. He and Shitty have to compromise on beer vs butter fridge useage, Holster and Ransom have agreed to actually knock before rushing into his room, and Jack has declared a moratorium on singing and loud music before 8am. This last one may be understandable, but it is the most annoying. All summer he missed being able to start singing something and having someone in the Haus join in. He loves his family, but being at Samwell is a little like being able to breathe again.

Still, he and Jack seem to be getting along really well lately and he doesn’t want to hurt that so he adjusts. In the morning when he’s getting ready he’ll put in his headphones and hum softly. Until one day he leaves his jacket with his headphones in the pocket in the kitchen and decides to he can get ready without music just once. Which is how he learns that sometimes Jack sings to himself.

Jack’s accent is stronger after he's spent any amount of time at home but it doesn't seem to affect his singing voice much at all. He’s got a nice voice, Eric thinks, if questionable taste in music. It's all too easy for Eric to crack his door open just a bit as he gets ready so he can hear Jack sing [_Georgia on My Mind_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fRgWBN8yt_E) across the hall.

 

\---

 

Practices start up soon enough, followed shortly by classes. Eric is nervous but ready. The doctor has cleared him to skate and he's got a brand new pre-game playlist made up for the new year. He's _ready_. Really.

Except when he actually gets on the ice anxiety starts to creep back in. It festers under the surface until someone brushes his shoulder or even just gets too close and then it spills over until he can't deal with it. He faints twice in one week and the coaches tell him he's in danger of being cut.

He knows it's not an attack or anything, that Coach Hall and Coach Murray are genuinely worried about him. But all he can think of when they tell him is that all his friends are on the hockey team and what's going to happen to those relationships if he has to quit. He lives in the hockey house for Christ’s sake. And God, what would his dad say...

He retreats to the loading dock after his meeting with the coaches. He doesn't even make it outside before the lump in his throat gets to be too much and he starts crying.

It's been a long while since he cried like this. He tears up easy at sad movies and when he has to say goodbye to his mom after breaks but this is different and so much worse. He's mad at himself for being scared, for not getting better. Or rather, for getting better and then back-sliding so dramatically that he's risking the best parts of his life. And now he's mad at himself for crying about it like he's a little kid again, begging his dad not to make him play football...

At least no one from the team is here to see. Eric takes a deep breath and tries to make a plan. He doesn't know what he's going to do about the checking thing yet, but what he needs to do right now is get back to the Haus. He needs to go wash his face in the bathroom to hide the evidence of his tears, then grab his stuff, then take the long way back to the Haus while listening to the most upbeat songs he has. If he does all this he thinks he can probably make it to the safety of his bedroom without any kind of scene. 

He's searching for a good playlist on his iPhone when for the walk back when the door behind him opens.

"Bittle?"

Jack. Eric freezes, then tries to wipe his tears away as fast and as discreetly as he can. He's pretty sure he fails, because when he turns around Jack looks more than a little uncomfortable.

"Hey! I didn't know anyone was still around," Eric says. He tries to sound cheerful, but there's a wet and wobbly quality to his voice that gives him away.

"I wanted to talk to the coaches," Jack says, because of course he did. Eric wonders if they told Jack about cutting Eric from the team but can't bring himself to ask.

"You okay?" Jack asks. He closes the door and moves to sit by Eric which is the absolute last thing Eric wants him to do, but once he's actually sitting there, side pressed up against Eric's on the narrow stairs, Eric finds it doesn't bother him too much.

"Yeah, of course!" Eric says, "why wouldn't I be? Just a rough practice you know, needed some fresh air. Everyone else always comes back here and I thought I should too you know, since I'm part of the team-"

His voice catches then, and if the red eye and rambling didn't give him away, then this would. Jack’s giving him this look that lets Eric know he's not buying this show for a second and Eric stops trying. They sit in silence for a few seconds before Jack finally asks.

"Bittle, what did the coaches say?"

Eric cringes.

"...I'm probably gonna get cut..." Jack stiffens beside him but Eric refuses to look, "since I can't take a hit and it's not safe or good for the team and-"

"You're not getting cut," Jack interrupts and Eric finally looks over at him. He's got his serious captain face on. "You can't get cut."

"Pretty sure I can Jack..."

"No," Jack says again, firmer, "you got better before, you can get better again. I'm not going to let you get cut from the team."

Eric tries not to be moved by the words. He knows Jack is just thinking about how good they were last year, how many points he scored after Eric moved up to his line, but he flushes nonetheless.

"You really don't have to do that," Eric says, "I know how much you have to worry this year..."

"It's not a problem," Jack says without hesitation, "I...I'd like to help. I want you on the team."

He seems so sincere about that Eric can't help but smile.

"Well, who can argue with that?" he asks.

Jack smiles and claps Eric on the shoulder, pulling him into one of those half-hug bro things that Ransom and Holster always do. It's the first time Jack’s ever done anything like that to Eric off ice and it makes him slightly giddy.

"Let's head back to the Haus," Jack says, standing. He holds out a hand and Eric lets himself be pulled to his feet. "We can talk schedules while you bake something. If there's any baking supplies left that is."

It takes a few seconds to realize that Jack is chirping him. In the past when Jack’s made comments about Eric's baking habit it always rubbed Eric the wrong way, like Jack was making some subtle dig at him and his somewhat less than masculine interest. It doesn't feel that way now, as they walk back to the locker room together exchanging chirps. Now it feels... like how Ransom and Holster chirp him, or how Jack and Shitty chirp each other. It feels good, like being part of the team. Eric latches onto the feeling, savoring it. He likes being part of the team and he's not ready to give that up, especially not when he and Jack are now apparently close enough that they can talk and tease each other all the way from Faber to the Haus.

Eric's iPhone sits in his pocket, music unplayed, the whole way back.

 

\---

 

Between living together and having class together and playing hockey together and having private checking practice together, Eric and Jack end up spending a lot of time, well, together. They've been getting along, but Eric's worried all this living in each other's pockets is going to grate on Jack, that eventually Jack’s going to remember why he didn't really like Eric all that much last year. He keeps bracing himself for the brush off, but it never comes. 

Instead, they grow closer. They study together, they sit near each other at dinner, they text each other, they chirp each other. He and Jack have inside jokes for goodness sake.

On the rare days when they don't have to rush off from the checking practice to class, he and Jack will sometimes stop by Annie's and grab coffee and just chat. Most of the time it's about hockey (because Jack is like, at least 80 percent hockey at all times) but the conversation occasionally slips to something else like class or family or music. 

Eric is both amused and appalled by Jack’s taste in music.

"You're joking, right?" Eric asks, aghast. "You're from _Canada_ , how on earth did you start listening to country music?"

"I don't know," Jack says, shrugging "I've always kind of liked it, but I started listening to it more pretty recently I guess. The lyrics are easy to understand and the accents are kind of...charming."

Eric's not sure the exact face he makes at that but it must be a good one because it makes Jack laugh.

"There's nothing charming about sounding like a hick," Eric pouts, "southern accents are the _worst_."

"You sound fine," Jack says, which might make Eric blush, just a little bit. He's never been complimented on his accent before.

It becomes a thing between them. Whenever Jack chirps him about his twitter addiction or his diet, Eric retaliates with music and pop culture. Jack is a good sport about it. Eric suspects he's even playing up his ignorance a little, but that might just be wishful thinking (seriously, there's no way he can not know who Rihanna is, right?).

Eric takes it upon himself to try and bring Jack up to acceptable levels of pop culture knowledge, despite Ransom and Holster’s insistence that it's a futile endeavor. They're probably right, but it's fun to try anyways. Eric likes the way Jack smiles when he guesses the artist of a song right. He likes the way Jack smiles when he guesses wrong and Eric chirps him for it. He likes the way Jack will hunch down to share an earbud with him during bus rides and the way his shoulders press against Eric's when he leans in to watch a music video on Eric's laptop. He likes the way Jack smiles at him and shakes his head chuckling when he catches Eric dancing and singing in the kitchen.

Eric likes a lot of things about Jack.

Which is fine until it isn't. Until Eric realizes one day that when he hears [Charli XCX sing about the sound of her heart](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AOPMlIIg_38) all he can think of is Jack’s hand on his shoulder.  When [Tim McGraw pleads for someone to take him away](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zVqS6ftZcTM) he thinks about Jack telling Eric he likes playing hockey with him. When [Beyoncé sings about saving graces and tumbling walls](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bnVUHWCynig) he can only think about Jack’s laugh and Jack’s eyes and Jack’s smile...

Eric would try to stop listening to love songs altogether but that doesn't leave much of his music library left. He doesn't think it would help much anyways.

 

\---

 

Winter screw resurfaces at the worst time possible.  Last year was bad enough, but this year he has to deal with Ransom and Holster playing matchmaker at the same time he's dealing with having a capital-c Crush on his captain and friend. (One of his _best_ friends, oh god this is the _worst_.)

He tries to avoid it for as long as possible but eventually Ransom corners him and he leaves the encounter with a date to the dance with a rugby player from England (he tries not to think about why the promise of a foreign accent was what made him break his resolve.)

The dance isn't as bad as last year's. His date - Ben - is charming, his friends are there, the music is good. And if he watches Jack and his date dancing and wishes it were him Jack had his hands on, well he only does it a few times and no one needs to know.

He and Ben hang out a few times after the dance. He's really nice, and not bad looking at all, and in any other circumstances Eric would be over the moon. But they’re out getting lunch together and Taylor Swift comes on over the cafe’s speakers and all Eric can think of is how proud Jack had seemed last time they were at Annie's and he'd managed to correctly recognize one of her songs. (He'd been guessing Taylor for literally every song though so it probably shouldn't have counted but his smile had been so cute when he'd gotten it right that Eric hadn’t held it against him).

Ben is sweet about it when he explains. "I've been there," he says, "straight boys, right?"

They part on good terms, agreeing to be friends. Eric is glad, because it means he might have someone to talk to about this. He hates that the one thing that is bothering him the most is the one thing he can't talk to his friends or mother about.  

He wishes, more than anything in the world, that he could talk to his mom about this. He skirts the issue when she asks if he's seeing anyone at school, saying he's just too busy. She points out that he never really dated in high school and that she's just worried that he's not taking time to enjoy himself.

"I just want you to be happy," she tells him over the phone. 

"I know mom, but I'm fine, really," Eric tells her, voice calm and practiced. If it sounds a little too much like how he sounded after she picked him up from school the morning after he spent the night locked in a utility closet, well maybe the phone quality masks it.

He powers through it until the end of the semester by focusing on hockey and finals and playing only the most energizing, I-don't-need-a-man songs he can find. 

And if he lets himself listen to every sad, unrequited love song he has for the flight home, well he figures he’s allowed to, just this once.

 

\---

 

This Christmas is much the same as last year's. He manages to bypass the most invasive questioning thanks to his cousin Sarah, who's gone and gotten engaged. His aunts can't seem go ten minutes without the conversation circling back to wedding plans. He catches himself thinking about his own future wedding and forces himself to stop when he realizes that his imaginary dream groom looks a little too much like a certain Canadian hockey player.

Eventually the conversation and the crowd gets too much for even him, so he grabs his jacket and slips outside to the porch to catch his breath. It’s gotten colder out, probably mid-30s, but compared to Samwell its balmy. He wonders if they’ve gotten any more snow since he left and goes to check his phone to see. Which is when he sees he has a new text message.

 **Jack  
**_Merry Christmas._  

It’s an individual text, sent just to him. Jack had sent out a group text to the entire team earlier, so this is probably his season’s greetings for just his closest friends. The thought that he is now ranked among them makes Eric grin despite the subtle ache in his chest that he gets when he thinks about Jack. He quickly sends his reply.

**Eric  
** _Merry Christmas Jack! Hope your holiday is going well!_

Jack's original message was sent over an hour ago, when Eric was helping layout dinner and his phone was tucked away in his jacket pocket, so he’s not really expecting a response. But a few seconds later his phone buzzes, twice.

**Jack  
** _You too._

**Jack  
**_My parents want to know how you and your mom are doing._  

**Eric  
** _We’re doing good! We just got done with dinner at the Bittle extravaganza. We’ll probably all be in food comas tomorrow._

**Jack  
**_Did you bake something for it?_  

 **Eric  
**_Of course! Mom and I made pumpkin and pecan pies. Coach helped with the stuffing this year._  

**Jack  
** _Coach?_

**Eric  
** _Sorry, my dad._

**Eric  
** _Everyone down here calls him coach and I forget that seems weird to people sometimes._

**Jack  
** _Ah, okay. He coaches football, right?_

**Eric  
** _Yep! High school football._

**Jack  
** _Ok_

**Jack  
** _I should thank you. I made the pie for dessert tonight._

**Jack  
** _It only got a little burnt._

**Eric  
** _Really!?!_

**Eric  
** _That’s awesome!_

**Eric  
** _Is it weird that I’m proud?_

**Eric  
** _Did you take pictures?_

**Jack  
**_No_.

**Jack  
** _Hold on._

There’s a longer pause in the text messages, then Eric gets two blank texts in a row, followed by a picture of a partially eaten apple pie. He can see where it’s a little burnt on the crust, and the lattice is all over the place, but the rest of it looks great. A third of it’s gone so someone must agree with him.

**Eric  
** _It looks great!_

**Eric  
**_How many people are you with for Christmas?_  

**Jack  
** _Thanks_

**Jack  
** _Just my parents and dad’s parents. Mom’s parents are in California. Neither of them has siblings either._

**Eric  
** _I was gonna say, it must be a small gathering because a pie like that wouldn’t last half a second in this house!_

**Jack  
** _How many people do you have over?_

**Eric  
** _31_

**Jack  
** _Wow_

**Eric  
** _lol I know right? That must seem overwhelming to someone who comes from a long line of only children!_

**Eric  
** _You’d probably be really uncomfortable here._

**Eric  
** _You’d try to get my attention with “Bittle” and 30 people would turn around!_

**Jack  
** _I don’t know._

**Jack  
** _It kind of sounds nice_

**Eric  
** _That just might be the “Haus-sickness” talking_

**Jack  
** _Maybe_

**Eric  
** _Speaking of large groups of people, I should probably get back to the party before my mother hunts me down._

**Jack  
** _Okay_

**Jack  
** _Before you go_

**Jack  
** _What was the name of the song you’ve been playing lately?_

**Jack  
** _The xmas song?_

**Eric  
** _All I want for Christmas is you by Mariah Carey?_

**Jack  
** _It’s been stuck in my head since yesterday_

**Jack  
** _Maybe?_

Eric finds himself giggling. Only Jack could manage to survive 20 plus years on god’s green earth and not know Mariah Carey. He flips over to his phone’s internet browser and pulls up the youtube video.

**Eric  
** _This one?_

**Eric  
**_<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yXQViqx6GMY>_  

**Jack  
** _Yeah, that’s the one._

**Jack  
** _I’ve just been thinking of it as “Bittle’s favorite christmas song” in my head_

**Eric  
** _Can you keep a secret?_

**Jack  
** _Yes_

**Eric  
** _When it comes to Christmas music, I actually prefer country music._

**Eric  
** _Childhood nostalgia and all that._

**Jack  
** _Really_

**Eric  
** _Don’t tell anyone!_

**Eric  
** _I have a reputation to uphold_

**Jack  
** _Your secret is safe with me_

**Jack  
** _What’s your favorite christmas song then?_

**Eric  
** _Mean!_

**Eric  
** _That’s like asking me to pick a favorite type of pie!_

**Eric  
** _Maybe Christmas in Dixie by Alabama?_

**Eric  
** _<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fOGZJvNa8S4> _

**Eric  
** _lol could I be any more southern rn?_

**Eric  
** _What’s yours?_

Jack takes a long time to respond and Eric thinks maybe he’s not going to, until a link pops up in his text messages and he realizes Jack probably had to go ask someone how to copy a URL on a phone. The fact that the only people he could ask are his parents and grandparents makes this infinitely more amusing. 

**Jack  
** _<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XeShHAZk3to> _

Eric clicks the link and holds the phone up to his ear. It’s not the best quality but he didn’t bring his earphones and he want to hear the song Jack’s sent him. The wifi at his uncle’s house isn’t great so the video stutters and stops, but he listens all the way through as The Eagles beg him to come home for Christmas. When the song finishes he goes back to his text messages and sees that he has two more from Jack

**Jack  
** _I guess it is a hard question_

**Jack  
** _But I like this one a lot right now_

**Eric  
** _I like it too. It's nice_

**Eric  
** _Merry Christmas Jack_

Eric waits a minute but Jack doesn't respond. Eric guesses he's probably gotten pulled away for something family-related and doesn't blame him. He pockets his phone and steps inside. Despite the Crush-related heartache he gets around Jack now, he still feels bubbly and pleased by the interaction.

His mother finds him as soon as he steps through the door and immediately begins fussing.

"Everything alright Dicky?" She asks, brushing his wind-tossed hair back into place.

"Yeah, just felt a little warm," he says, and then adds, "and then I got caught up texting Jack."

It's not that weird of a thing to say since he texts his teammates a lot, Jack included, but it makes his mother look thoughtful. He's worried for a second that he's given himself away but then she smiles and his anxiety eases.

"And how's Jack doing?" She asks.

"Good," Eric say, "he made a pie for Christmas. Look," he pulls out his phone to show his mother the picture Jack has sent her. She laughs.

"Good for him! Oh bless his heart, look at that lattice..."

"It's better than his last attempt," Eric says, feeling the need to defend Jack even though his mother is right, it is pretty sad. She smiles and pats him on the cheek.

"That boy is lucky to have you around," she says and god, Eric knows she doesn't mean it in any romantic way but he feels his face start to redden anyways.

"You know how much I like baking," he says, busying himself with hanging up his coat just right. "And all the guys on the team appreciate it. I'm pretty sure Chowder would starve if I wasn't there. Did I tell you how many ramen packets I found in his dorm?"

It's a clumsy subject change but his mother doesn't call him on it and he's grateful. They return to the living room in time for the gift exchange and Eric tries to not think about Jack too much, not even when [_I’ll be Home for Christmas_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9xdxE0tDyFk) starts playing. He’s almost managed to forget about the text exchange until the drive home, when he checks his phone and sees he has one new message.

**Jack  
** _Merry Christmas Bitty_

 

\---

 

The rest of the break is uneventful. He texts his teammates a lot, runs into some guys from high school, bakes, and texts his teammates some more. His mother asks about his friends and how they're doing. He doesn't blame her. He had friends in high school but he was never really close to anyone the way he is with his Samwell friends. He thinks it must make her happy watching him have friends like this.

So she tells Eric to tell 'Mr Crappy' that she thinks he'll make a fine lawyer and she laughs when Eric fusses about Chowder getting a girlfriend and she asks how Jack is doing. Her new goal seems to be to get him to visit them in Georgia.

"He could stay with us over the summer, wouldn't that be nice?" She asks. Eric's not so sure. He tells her Jack will probably be really busy this summer and hopes she doesn't push.

She brings it up a few more times before the break ends but doesn't make a big deal out of it. Eric supposes it's nice that she cares so much. It probably partly due to her having a weird crush on Jack’s dad (which, _ew_ ) but he thinks it's also probably her way of trying to help him out. She know Eric's sad about Jack and Shitty graduating soon and she doesn't want him to miss them. If Shitty weren't so...Shitty she’d probably invite him down too. Still he can't help but wonder what she'd think of she realized she was trying to get her son to bring the guy he has a crush on to stay with them. 

The flight back to Boston is too slow and no amount of music makes it go any faster. By the time he makes it in the front door of the Haus he's exhausted but music is blasting and Ransom grabs him and pulls him into doing the squats they talked about over break ("we're gonna make that booty a beauty Bitty!"). By the time Jack makes it downstairs to greet him Eric and Ransom are laughing at Holster as he sings along to their workout music and Eric is so grateful to be back.

Jack looks at them funny - Eric hasn't even taken his coat off yet - but he claps Eric on the shoulder and tells him to keep it up. It's an awkward greeting but it's so Jack that Eric gets butterflies in his stomach. At least now if his face is flushed he can blame it on the squats.

 

\---

 

Spring semester picks up without a hitch. He and Jack don't have class together any more which is both a blessing and a curse, but they still hang out a lot. They've also, somehow, started texting a lot.

Jack is a bit of a luddite at the best of times, so the texting thing is unexpected and new. They texted a lot over break, but that out of necessity. They texted occasionally before break, but it was rare enough to be a Big Deal when it happened. Now they're texting almost everyday and Eric hates himself for loving it.

It starts when Jack texts him to let him know that they were playing Beyoncé at Annie's and he recognized the songs. Eric laughs and tells him he's so proud and thinks that's the end of it, but it's not.   

Jack texts him a few times with snippets of song lyrics he's overheard, asking for the name of the song and artist. Eric likes it when Jack texts him and he always answers but eventually he makes Jack download Soundhound and shows him how to use to to figure out what song is playing.

Which means Jack is now sending him texts like: 

_[Sia](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KWZGAExj-es) was playing at the store. You like her right?_

Or:

_[Stay With Me by Sam Smith](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pB-5XG-DbAA). Do you have this cd? Can I borrow it?_

(Who has CDs anymore, Eric wonders, and then remembers he's talking to Jack Zimmermann.)

Or sometimes just: 

 _[Take Me to Church by Hozier](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MYSVMgRr6pw). Have you heard this song? I like it._  

Because Eric’s life is one giant trial, this somehow evolves into Eric and Jack sending each other links to songs they like. Eric sends Jack top 40 in a continued effort to bring him into the 21st century. Jack sends him a mix of things, from songs he overhears on the radio that he wants Eric to know he likes, to oldies and country songs that he wants Eric to try and like too.

He ends up mentioning it to his mom one night over the phone. He's told her about Jack’s abysmal knowledge of all things pop culture before and about how he and some of the other guys are trying to bring him up to speed (he didn't mention that most of the other guys have given up Jack as a lost cause at this point and it's really only Eric left). So he doesn't think anything of telling her that he and Jack have been exchanging music lately, and that Jack’s technological ineptitude continues to amaze him. 

"He said he should just make me a mixtape," Eric tells her, laughing, "He _meant_ he'd burn me a CD but even that's pretty outdated. Seriously, I don't even know where you'd even find the technology to make a mixtape nowadays. Maybe Nursey would know...?"

His mother laughs along and then let's out a long 'hm'. Eric can't see her face, but it sounds an awful lot like the noise she makes before she's about to start telling stories of when he was a baby.

"You know, your father gave me a mixtape once," she says, "that's how he asked me out."

The shift of topic is like a drop into ice water. For a second Eric flails, not sure what his mom making this connection means. He tries to sound casual when he says "oh?" and cringes when it comes out a little too high-pitched.

His mother laughs and his heart rate drops, just a bit, from the hundred miles an hour pace it was just pushing.

"Yep! He left it in my locker one day, got one of my friends to put it in there for him, but he forget to attach the note he'd written along with it so for almost a whole week I had no idea who's left me the tape. He finally came forward. He said it'd taken him a week to figure out he'd forgotten the note but I know he was actually just being shy."

"Oh," Eric says. It's...not the story he was expecting. He'd known his parents were high school sweethearts but never really wondered how they gotten together. His dad has been a quarterback and his mom had been a cheerleader; somehow he'd thought they'd just sort of...happened.

"I...you really think Coach was too shy to ask you out?" This strikes Eric as odd. He's never thought of his father as shy before. Stoic, maybe. Quiet, yes. But shy?

"Oh I know he was, he was blushing like a tomato and couldn't string two proper words together!"

"That, wow...that doesn't sound like Coach at all."

His mother laughs at that. "Oh honey, he's gotten better at hiding it, but he's still as skittish as a deer. You know he always lets me to all the talking when we're out and about."

"Well, yes, but I just thought that was because he’s not very talkative?"

"Hm, maybe in part, but if it's not about football or fishing your daddy is still as shy as all get out." Then, softer, "he tries though. I know you think he doesn't like talking to you about lots of things but that's not on you sweetie and I _promise_ he's trying."

Eric's breath catches in his throat.

"I...yeah, yeah I know." He scrubs at his eyes and breathes deep until he thinks he can talk again without his voice catching, or without him blurting out something he's not ready to say yet.

"I love you sweetie," his mom says, "You be nice to Jack about his music though, you hear? Any boy who likes Garth Brooks is a good one in my books."

Eric laughs at that. It sounds a little hysterical, but his mom doesn't call him on it. She doesn’t call him on a lot of his weirdness these days.

"Alright, I won't tease him too much," he says, "love you mom."

They hang up and Eric is left alone with his thoughts. For once he doesn't want to put on music to block them out or change them. He curls up on his bed, hugs his bunny and tries to sort his thoughts in the not-quite-silence of the Haus.

He thinks about a lot of things. His mother’s words, this revelation about his dad being shy (his dad, who Eric thinks would get along with Jack like peas in a pod). He thinks about Jack, and his smile, and the way he chirps Eric and they way he texts Eric even when he's just across the hall. He thinks about the music Jack sends him. 

A lot of the songs Jack sends are...well they're love songs. Most music is about love so it's hard to avoid. It's totally innocent, Eric knows that. As far as Jack is concerned, he's just exchanging music preferences with a friend. Eric does it with Holster all the time. But when Holster sends Eric a link to to latest Nicki Minaj single his heart doesn't skip a beat quite the same way as when Jack sends him a link to [_Somebody Like You_ by Keith Urban](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eiBinM-f-Pk) with the message "this is one of my favorites."

It's probably nothing.

But maybe...

He makes a decision when Jack sends him the text 20 minutes later: "just heard a beyonce song and thought of you. I got the rink tonight at 7, do you wanna practice together?"

Eric stares at the text for a long time. Then he texts back a simple "yes, I'll meet you at Faber."

Then he takes a deep breath and texts his mom.

 

\---

 

Jack shows up to Faber at 6:52 which is fifteen minutes after Eric. Eric's already on the ice warming up, doing the occasionally trick that he can get away with not having figure skates on for. Jack joins him on the ice with a confused smile.

"This is different," he says, pointing upward. Considering there have been no structural changes to Faber's roof since they were here yesterday, Eric's pretty sure he's referring to the fact that [Paul McCartney](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ap87QgZKTNw) is playing over the speakers and not Rihanna.

Eric stops in front of him and shrugs as nonchalantly as he can.

"I was talking to my mom earlier today about music," Eric says. "I was telling her about how you wanted to make me a mixtape -" Jack groans and Eric smiles. This isn't the first time Eric's chirped him about the ‘tape’ thing - "and she told me a story about my dad giving her one back when they were in high school. You know, when mixtapes were actually a thing that people did."

"So this is...the music your dad gave your mom?" Jack asks. 

"Well it's not the tape itself obviously but she still remembered what was on it and then I make a playlist and put it on my phone, like a normal young adult in the 21st century."

Jack laughs. "You know I meant CD Bittle, let it go." He falls silent and listen as the track switches and [Loretta Lynn](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VTJtecD4ooU) starts singing.

"I like it so far," Jack says. "Your dad had good taste in music."

"Debatable," Eric says, "but he made the tape to ask her out and it worked so who am I to judge."

It's hard to tell, but he thinks Jack might be blushing. Eric is suddenly aware that they've been standing in the same place on the ice since Jack joined him. He wonders if it's the longest Jack had ever spent on-ice not doing something hockey related.

"That's...very sweet," Jack says finally. Eric hums in agreement.

"Yeah, it is. Apparently he'd been too shy to say anything about liking her before, and he decided to try and use music to let her know. That's pretty cute, right? Using a mixtape to ask someone out?” He pauses, watching Jack carefully, “I mean, its a little more romantic than just sharing a spotify playlist or linking someone to a youtube video, right?”

Jack is definitely blushing now. He coughs, say something that sounds like agreement, and then insists they start practicing. Eric doesn't say anything, just goes to his regular spot against the boards.

He doesn’t bring it up again as they run through a few of their usual drills. Eric waits until they decide to take a break and skate laps before saying anything.

"So…” Eric starts, gliding past Jack as they round the short end of the rink, “if you _were_ going to make me a mixtape, what would be on it?" 

Eric regrets now leaving his phone on the bench because there is no way anyone is ever going to believe him that Jack Zimmermann, who has probably been skates since before he could walk, tripped over his own two feet on-ice. The only reason he doesn’t land flat on his face is because they’re close enough to the side of the rink that he can reach out and save himself. Eric turns so fast and so sharp that if he weren’t freaking out about half a million other things right now he’d be impressed with himself.

“Are you alright?” Eric asks, skating as close to Jack as he can get without being on top of him. “You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

Jack doesn’t seem to notice him fussing, he’s just staring at Eric and Eric isn’t sure if the flush on his face is blushing from embarrassment or the cold or…

“ _Jesus_ Bittle,” Jack says. His voice is pitched low and...and Eric finds himself flushing too. 

“What? What’s wrong?” 

“Did you...did you really just ask me that?” Eric pulls his hands away from where they’re hovering near Jack and skates himself back until there’s a least two feet between them instead of two inches. If he’d had the presence of mind to be impressed with how fast he’d moved before he’d be even more impressed this time. He didn’t though, and he doesn’t now, so he’s not.

“I just...you said you were going to make me one? Before? I know you meant CD but I was wondering what you would’ve put on it and I...I…”

Jack is upright again now and he’s staring at Eric and frowning and looking...not angry? Maybe not angry? Confused, maybe, Eric thinks he looks confused but he’s not sure because apparently he can’t actually read Jack like he thought he could and-

“I…” Jack starts and then catches himself before seeming to steel himself and starting again. “You were just talking about your parents and mixtapes being romantic and then…you...” Jack putters out and just stares at Eric. Something changes in his face and he frowns, shakes his head and mutters, “I’m an idiot.”

He sounds so completely miserable that Eric is moving forward before he consciously decides to do so. “What, no,” he says, putting himself back in Jack’s personal space bubble and trying to meet Jack’s eyes. Jack doesn’t make it easy. “Jack, no, you’re not an idiot, don’t say that. Why would you be?”

“Nothing,” Jack says. He tries to skate backwards but hits the boards and stumbles again. Eric grabs his arms and pushes him back up before he falls. Jack’s arms tense under his hands. Eric lets go but doesn’t back up.

“Jack,” Eric says, “What did you think I meant?”

Jack doesn’t answer this time, not even to brush him off. He just hunches his shoulders and avoids Eric’s eyes. Eric swallows and roots himself as firmly as he can while on skates. Over the speakers [Charley Pride](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sikYwz2hMf4) is singing.  

“Because I think it sounded like you thought I was asking what kind of music you’d try to ask me out with,” Eric says. He watches Jack flinch, slightly, and blush, not so slightly.

“I didn-”

“And if that’s what you thought I was asking -”

“ _Eric_ -”

“You’d be right.”

Eric forces the words out, tosses them into the air between them and then uses every ounce of courage he has not to turn tail and run.

Jack is finally looking him in the eyes again. Staring in fact.  He looks at Eric like...like…

Eric doesn’t know what the look on Jack’s face is and if neither of them says something soon he’s going to vomit and so he does what he always does when he’s nervous. He starts word vomiting instead.

“I mean, unless you didn’t mean that way in which case...no I still meant it like that but, like, if you’re uncomfortable with that I _completely_ understand and I’m _so_ sorry I just thought, well, the way you’d been acting lately but I guess I was wrong which makes me the idiot here and not you and you shouldn’t be upset about it I just read things wrong and went and made things awkward because I just thought hey maybe, but clearly not so I’m just gonna-”

Eric mouth is moving faster than his brain at this point so he honest-to-god couldn’t say what he was “just gonna” do because at that moment Jack kisses him and both his mouth and brain stop working and...and…

And Jack is _kissing_ him.

It’s not a long kiss or a particularly deep one. After a few seconds they both draw away and the way Jack is looking at him feels like breathing out after holding your breath for a really, _really_ long time.

Jack’s hands are on his cheeks, warm and real and _there_ , and his thumb is brushing against the edge of Eric’s lips and he’s smiling and he’s beautiful, he’s the best thing Eric’s ever seen, and Eric wants to kiss him again. He’s about to rock up as much as his skates will allow to do just that when Jack finally says something.

“I don’t know.”

“...What?”

“About the mixtape. CD. Which songs I’d put on it. To...to ask you...I don’t know. I…” Jack breaths out and his fingers curl against Eric’s skin, sending shivers all the way down to his toes. “I thought about it. A lot. I…” He laughs and oh, Jack has the _best_ laugh. “I can’t listen to like, half my music library without thinking of you.” 

“Jack…”

“Mostly because you’re the reason my music library has doubled in the past few weeks but still I just…” 

“Jack.”  
  


“And I, uh, I did actually want to make you a CD but I couldn’t think of what to put on it and-” 

“Jack,” Eric finally figures out how to make his hands move again and he uses them to pull Jack’s head down, closer to him. 

“Jack, I retroactively accept all your text messages about music as a proper courting mixtape now _please_ , kiss me again.”

This kiss is longer and deeper, or it would be if they could stop smiling into it. Eric doesn’t mind though, and Jack doesn’t seem to either. In the background some [old country singer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GfOVMe9bwis) that Eric doesn’t recognize informs them that the hard part is over and that the loving part has begun and Eric couldn’t agree more.

 

\---

 

Two weeks later, Jack Zimmermann knocks on his door and presents him with a honest-to-god cassette tape, hand-labeled and everything, and a working cassette player to go with it.

“Where on earth did you even get this?” Eric demands after he’s finally stopped laughing.

“Nursey has some friends who are really into vintage stuff,” Jack informs him. He looks so damn pleased with himself that Eric just has to kiss him.

And then pull him into his room.

And onto his bed.

A hour or so later, Jack is napping in his bed and and Eric is running his finger over Jack’s neat handwriting on the front of the tape. It’s a good selection of songs, a nice mix of top 40 and 90’s pop and country and even [_I’ll Cover You_ from _Rent_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ufXYxKw58RA) which Jack had to have learned about from Holster. He recognizes at least one song from his parent’s mixtape mix and has to stop himself from waking Jack up just so he can kiss him again.

Jack made him a mixtape and Eric can’t stop smiling. He wants to tell someone. Anyone. _Everyone_. Neither of them is ready to be out to anyone but their closest friends and Jack’s a public figure for god’s sake so he knows it’s ridiculous and irresponsible and impossible but he wants to tell the whole wide world that this socially-awkward, beautiful, hockey-robot who is his _boyfriend_ made him a mixtape.

He wants to tell his mom.

He dismisses the thought right away. There’s no way he can tell his mother that his _boyfriend_ made him a mixtape. And then he thinks about it again. He’d told his mother about the initial mixtape story. He could tell her it was just a follow up for that. That Jack had gone through the trouble of making a real, live mixtape just to tease him. It’s a stretch to be sure, especially given the way that the first mixtape conversation had ended. She’ll probably suspect something but...but maybe dropping a hint or two wouldn’t be so bad.

He grabs his phone off his desk before he can change his mind. He’s just decided that doing this as a text message is probably his best bet when he notices he has a new text message. From his mother. It’s from about twenty minutes ago, when he and Jack were, well, busy, so they hadn’t heard the phone buzz. His mom has a habit of treating text messaging like email so he’s not surprised that the the message is too long to read in the notification preview. He clicks to view the whole thing.

**Mom  
** _Hi sweetie! Hope you’re having a good day. I finally managed to get Nancy to share her banana bread recipe with me so make sure you check your email for that! Also Sarah called earlier and wanted our opinion on food for the wedding reception so you should give her a call at some point._

_I heard this song earlier today and thought of you. I know you’re not really listening to country music much these days but I thought maybe you’d like this one._

_<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kQ8xqyoZXCc> _

_Love you sweetheart._

He doesn’t want to wake Jack but his headphones are in his bag across the room and Jack’s arm is pretty snuggly slung across his waist so there’s really only so much he can do. He turns the volume down low and clicks on the link.

He’s never heard of the artist but that doesn’t surprise him; he hasn’t actively kept up with country music since middle school. The beginning of the video starts in silence with cliched clips of a highway and the desert, which doesn’t exactly set Eric’s expectations very high. The music starts and it’s a little louder than he thought it would be and he quickly turns the volume down some more. 

The singer starts in, singing about if a woman saves herself for marriage she’s a prude but if she doesn’t she’s a whore, and Eric finds himself a little bit more intrigued. If nothing else maybe he can send the song along to Shitty.

The chorus starts and Eric is so busy rolling his eyes at the singer’s cheesy outfit that he almost misses it. He has to replay the line three times before he’s sure.

_Kiss lots of boys, or kiss lots of girls if that’s something you’re into._

That...that does not sound like an appeal to straight guys to identify with this song. Eric’s heart is beating a little faster as he lets the song continue.

_When the straight and narrow..._

Oh.

_Gets a little too straight..._

Oh god.

_Roll up a joint, or don't, Just follow your arrow wherever it points_

He lets the song play all the way to the end and then plays it again while he looks up the lyrics, just to be sure. Then he plays it a third time. He’s so caught up in listening that he doesn’t even notice Jack stirring beside him until Jack’s chest is pressed up against his back and there are arms wrapping around his torso.

“Good song,” Jack says, hooking his chin over Eric’s shoulder. Eric supposes he should feel bad about waking his boyfriend but he’s finding it hard to when he really needs this hug right now.

“Y-yeah,” Eric says. His breath catches a little bit and Jack’s arms tighten around him. “My mom sent it to me. Said it reminded her of me.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

They’re quiet for a minute. Jack’s fingers are idly tracing patterns into Eric’s stomach. He probably doesn’t realize he’s doing it, but it’s comforting nonetheless.

“I think…” Eric starts, and then stops when he realizes he really doesn’t know what he wants to say. Jack waits patiently for him to continue. Finally Eric gestures toward his phone.

“Do mind if I…” he trails off again but Jack somehow seems to understand.

“Whatever you need to do,” he says, “Do you want me to leave?”

Eric shakes his head and Jack reaches for his free hand, the one not holding his phone, and intertwines their fingers.

“Okay,” Jack says, “Then I’m here.”

Eric gives him a watery smile before turning back to his phone. He takes a deep breath and calls his mother.

She picks up almost immediately.

“Hey sweetie, what’s up?”

“Hi mom,” he says. He hesitates and Jack gives his hand squeeze. “I...I got the song you sent. You’re right, I did like it.”

His mom makes a pleased noise on the other end of the line and Eric feels a little bit of the tension in his shoulders slip.

“I’m glad, I thought you might.”

Her voice is soft and...and understanding, _so_ understanding. Eric doesn’t think ‘now or never’. He knows it isn’t now or never, but he does think ‘Now. Now, when you’ve got your friends downstairs and your boyfriend holding your hand and a song about being true to yourself stuck in your head. _Now_ would be a good time.’ 

“Mom,” he says, “I have something to tell you.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the longest thing I've written since high school because I am in way too deep with this comic. Also there is not nearly enough frogs in this fic, for which I deeply apologize. 
> 
> I'm lilbookofkell on tumblr if you want to chat.


End file.
